


Someday You Will Find Me

by myownpatronus



Series: Champagne Supernova [1]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drug Use, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Marijuana, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26940640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myownpatronus/pseuds/myownpatronus
Summary: TK’s journey through his first months in Austin while he struggles with sobriety and adjusting to a new home.
Relationships: Owen Strand & TK Strand
Series: Champagne Supernova [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971712
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	Someday You Will Find Me

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of an introspective piece on TK. I’ve played fast and loose with order of events and added in a relapse (weed, not opiates) inspired particularly by a client who is avoiding me and my drug screens, which is honestly much worse for him than just peeing in the damn cup and telling me something’s going to be positive (I digress, but seriously just own up to it and it’ll be easier, man). I also tried to explain how TK is able to be a firefighter at all considering it seems like he’s had a pretty significant drug use history and that usually doesn’t fly at firehouses (or at least, not at any of the ones my sister has worked at over the last 13 years). Tall order considering this is a pretty short lil thing.

Everything was black and then… it wasn’t. Nothing quickly turned into too many bodies and an oxygen mask and a pounding pain in his head and a dry mouth and an aching stomach and seized up muscles and -- he keeled over to the side, vomiting up the meager contents of his stomach.

And then there was his dad, hovering over him with that look in his eyes. One of fear and love and just a little disappointment, no matter how hard he tried to mask it.

“Dad,” TK gasped, “dad, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

He reached out for his father and melted into the warm embrace, the solid, firm, loving father’s arms.

“You’re okay, son,” Owen muttered over and over, gently stroking TK’s hair and trying not to jostle him too much.

He knew what had happened. Just a few to numb the pain of heartbreak had been too much after all this time and he must have overdosed. He’d been doing so good, too. Nearly a year clean and then his first relapse just had to be disastrous. He wanted to object as he sensed the team readying him for transport, but he knew the procedure. Constant monitoring after Narcan administration, transport to the ER required. It was a liability issue more than anything.

He didn’t protest as he was lifted onto a stretcher, taken down the flight of stairs, and loaded in the ambulance.

* * *

TK had been released from the hospital early the next morning with a referral to behavioral health for a substance abuse evaluation. His father was waiting for him as he signed the paperwork and walked himself out the front doors. Owen Strand had never been so quiet.

“I found a meeting for you tonight, at a church around the corner from the station. I’ll drop you off and pick you up when it’s done.”

“Dad, I don’t... this was just a one-time thing. A moment of weakness. Alex - he dumped me, and I just wanted to drown it out. But I’m  _ fine _ , dad, really. It’s not like before.”

Owen gave him a long, searching look. “I’ve heard that before, kid. You’re going to that meeting.”

* * *

After the meeting, he and his dad walked in the quiet evening. He didn’t know how to break the silence, or even if he wanted to. Everything was hanging on by the most tenuous of threads. His job, his family, his  _ life _ .

“Can you just get it over with already?” He said with a sigh.

“What do you want me to say,TK? I’ve said it all before. It seems nothing I do will stand in the way of you trying to destroy yourself.”

He was silent for a while, unable to respond to that.

“I can’t explain it, dad, and I’m sorry for that. But I’m not...I’m really trying. I was. I was so happy at the station and with Alex and everything and I just needed to tune out for a minute or else I was worried I’d explode.”

“The come talk to me, TK, don’t do something you know will hurt yourself and everyone around you.”

“Do I still have a job?” TK asked meekly.

“The reports all say accidental overdose,” Owen said, but it was a non-answer.

They were silent for a moment longer.

“I’m taking the job in Austin, and you’re coming with me.”

“What- dad, I-“

“No, this is not up for discussion. You need a change, a fresh start. This will be good for you. For both of us.”

* * *

Austin was ... well, it wasn’t the Texas he had feared. It was a hip town, open-minded in so many ways. He wondered if it wouldn’t be so bad to make a home for himself here. What did he have left in New York anyway? Alex had moved on, his mom had moved in with her new husband in Connecticut, and the 252 probably wouldn’t have taken him back.

His dad had outlined the rules to their new life: curfew, random drug screens, constant supervision. It was less restrictive than rehab had been, but the false sense of freedom was almost worse.

He went to meetings twice a week, substance abuse counseling once a week, and spent the rest of his time trying to rebuild a firehouse that could be a haven for him and the crew his father was building.

* * *

The morning after the bar, after their first successful shift as the 126, his father met him in the bathroom with a plastic cup.

He rolled his eyes, tried to play it off, but it was humiliating to unscrew the cap and pee in front of his father. Owen pulled back the strip and closely inspected the bands, the color coding that revealed dilutions, until he was happy that it was truly negative and unadulterated. TK lost his appetite after that.

But soon the drug tests became routine. The shift after his romp at Carlos’ house, his father made him pee because he hadn’t known where TK was for a few hours in the morning. When he took a ride through a corn silo, his father waited a day to see if that would inspire a relapse.

* * *

He was so closely monitored and scrutinized that he needed to do something. To feel something.

Judd’s comments certainly didn’t help either. Maybe he had been handed  _ this  _ job but he had worked hard to become a firefighter. He’d started as a volunteer when he was only 16, went to the academy straight out of high school, and worked his fair share of shitty stations in boring first dues with only the occasional kitchen fire or “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” call to occupy his time. He’d paid his dues, and maybe this job was a consolation prize for his fuck up in New York, but it wasn’t  _ unearned _ .

And there was definitely no special treatment from Owen, unless constant supervision and suspicion counted as special treatment.

He wanted to drown out the anxieties in his mind and really  _ feel _ something for the first time since he’d felt his heart break back in the city.

So he got in a fight.

He got in a fight in a bar that he knew cops patrolled closely maybe because he _wanted_ to fuck up. Maybe he was tired of tiptoeing around.

The only thing he didn’t anticipate was Carlos being the arresting officer, the one processing him in the station, the one who would pull up his record any minute and see that this wasn’t his first arrest or first charge.

He was glad for the ice pack. It numbed the pain on his cheekbone and the ice burned cold and painful against his skin.

Confessing to Carlos about the relapse felt good. It felt good to punish himself. No cop would want to get involved in a relationship that could potentially damage his job. He just hoped Carlos wouldn’t tell anyone else and get his dad in trouble.

Owen had vouched for him when he first entered the academy. When he was barely 19 and an ex got him hooked on pills, Owen had covered for him. He had donated leave to make sure that TK could go to rehab and get treatment without losing his future or letting the higher-ups know. Last year’s relapse had been entirely hidden because Owen was his captain. He knew it wasn’t fair to the other men and women in the service, to the people he’d sworn to protect. But somehow he couldn’t stop it.

Carlos seemed to understand. And when the other guys had opted not to press charges, he had unlocked TK’s cuffs without calling his father.

Of course, Owen still noticed the bruising and made him pee in a cup.

* * *

It was still a habit for T.K. to browse through medicine cabinets, drawers, even the occasional accidentally-left-unlocked locker, though he never raided the ambulance supplies - that was too dangerous. But this was like a safety net. Whether he wanted to find something or nothing, he didn’t know.

But he didn’t expect to find a pill bottle in his dad’s desk. And he certainly didn’t expect it to be drugs to help with the side effects of chemo.

His nerves threatened to get the better of him. It was like he was strung out but without the fun part beforehand. So he bought a gram of weed from the dishwasher at a seedy bar nearby to calm himself down for the confrontation with his dad.

He knew it was stupid but it was the smartest dumb decision he could make at the moment.

He’d hoped his dad would wait a few days for the test out of guilt over hiding his cancer. Give the weed time to leave his system, but just in case he also drank about a gallon of water the next morning before his workout.

“TK, I need to speak with you.”

He closed his eyes and prayed, hoping the dilution had worked. Even if it was just weed, he didn’t know what his father would do.

The test came back invalid, and he saw his dad inspecting the cup more closely than normal.

“Your creatinine is low, and the pH is off.”

“I’ve had a lot to drink this morning - heavy workout.”

Owen nodded. Was he in the clear?

“We’ll try again after lunch. Try to limit the coffee this time.”

TK didn’t know what to do. Should he come clean to his father, try to build up good will? Had the weed cleared his system with the water, or would this next test come up positive?

He knew he was in trouble when he saw his father’s expression change as he looked at the panel on the side of the cup.

“My office,  _ now _ ,” Owen said harshly.

TK followed him in meekly. He’d barely had a chance to take a seat when his father turned on him.

“Something you want to tell me?”

TK didn’t even know how to form the words.

“You’re suspended without pay for a week.”

“Wha-dad, come on. A  _ week _ ?”

“No, Tyler. Marijuana,  _ really _ ?”

He knew it was bad when the full name came out. “It was just - I was freaking out and couldn’t calm down-”

“Then you go to a meeting, or call your counselor, or call  _ me _ . You don’t get high the first chance you get!”

“Are you going to report me?”

That was the tricky bit. TK couldn’t be suspended for no reason, but Owen wouldn’t want to jeopardize his son’s career - especially with the risk of exposing his own involvement in covering up for an addict son.

“Only if you give me reason to.”

TK nodded. He could accept that. Maybe he’d be written up for disobeying Judd’s orders in the silo.

Owen typed a few lines on his computer, then turned the monitor towards TK. “Here are all the local meetings this week. I’ll make sure to drop you off at them. When I’m at the station, I expect you to check in hourly, even if I’m out on a call.”

“So what, I’m grounded? Dad, I’m 26 -”

“And when we moved here, you agreed to certain stipulations. If you’re going to violate my trust and act like a child, I’m going to treat you like a child.”

TK understood the logic, he understood that his father simply wanted what was best for him. But he couldn’t help but be angry at his father. And himself. “Can I go,  _ Cap _ ?” he said.

“TK,” his father said in the voice he reserved for scared children.

“I don’t really want to talk about this,” he said, standing up. “So, since I’m suspended, there should be no reason for me to be here, right?”

Owen nodded. “Fine. But remember, call me every hour. I’ll pick you up at the house at 5:45 for the meeting tonight.”

TK didn’t respond. He stalked out of the office. He knew that he was probably attracting more attention to himself, roughly grabbing his things from his locker and slamming the door, storming past his coworkers without a word. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He opted to walk home, rather than calling an Uber and being forced to wait at the station. It was only a couple of miles home, and the walk was all the freedom he’d get for the next week, apparently.

He walked past a lot with a few food trucks and picked up some tacos, even though he’d just eaten lunch. At a corner store, he grabbed a supply of Topo Chico that might last him a day or two. But there was only so much time he could waste before he eventually had to go home. 

The house was something new. After his parents divorced when he was ten, both had moved into apartments. He hadn’t known this much living space in a long time. It almost felt excessive. He didn’t know what to do with all the space and time, especially for an entire week. He called his dad, watched some TV, called his dad again, watched some more TV, called his dad again, and was about ready to scream in boredom when he heard the car pull up outside.

He still wasn’t in a mood to talk to his father as he slid into the front passenger seat. As he was getting out of the car at the community center, his dad placed a hand on his arm. “You know I love you, right, TK?”

He paused, then looked his dad in the eyes. “Yeah, dad, I know. I love you, too.”


End file.
